


They're Not Pleasant Memories

by Rugsrat



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, I promise, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers for C2E126, Spoilers for C2E86, Trauma with a happy-ish ending, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29701386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rugsrat/pseuds/Rugsrat
Summary: "I still am haunted every night by the look on your face when I..."After the event of C2e126, Yasha dreams. She hopes tonight will be an exception.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 2
Kudos: 88





	They're Not Pleasant Memories

Yasha often resisted sleep. Because she was terrified of what she would see. What she _knew_ she would see. Almost every time, except for those fleeting nights when The Storm Lord spoke to her and provided renewed purpose.

She had hoped tonight would be an exception, with she and Beau wrapped around each other in tangled sheets and breathy quiet. Her last view a mirrored image of the two of them drifting off together after so many firsts. Her heart felt _light_ for the first time in ages.

The nightmares would leave her, now, surely?

But the swirls of blood-soaked mist still poured in. She still found herself crying over the bodies of those she cared about. Faces obscured in the place where the dream ended and sleepy oblivion began. Even in the dream, Yasha longed to reach that endpoint. To exit this horror and simply _rest_.

But the dream continued without her consent. Dragging her again and again through actions she remembered whenever she let her mind wander, the shame and guilt nearly overwhelming. She saw Beau, helpless on the ground, already bruised and bloody, one eye swollen shut, reaching up either to grab at Yasha or to defend herself, a bit unclear from the perspective Yasha saw her. But what was entirely too clear, burned into her mind irrevocably was the fear that grew in Beau’s eyes as Yasha’s arm raised, and the wicked, jagged blade of the Skin Gorger speared into Beau’s chest with a disturbing crunch that she was all too familiar with.

* * *

Yasha jolted awake, her heart racing, momentarily disoriented at seeing herself reflected in the mirror above. The sheets wrapped tighter around her from stirring unbidden in her sleep. But a weight was pressed against Yasha’s side that pinned her other arm. She blinked in confusion as the fog of nightmare finally fully dissipated, and Beau was there curled into Yasha, limbs draped over her torso and thighs and gripping her tightly in her sleep.

 _Ah_. Yasha breathed out slowly, and relaxed again into the slightly-too-soft bed. In the mirror, she navigated her free hand until she could move a stray lock of hair that was getting into Beau’s mouth. And she just stared for a moment at the living image above them. Letting this moment seep into her and permeate with warmth the way a healing potion would before she settled back into she hoped, an easier rest.

She had hoped that tonight would be an exception. And it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Love cannot "fix" trauma or mental illness. But that doesn't mean you're not worthy of love. You are.


End file.
